


Baby mine

by Lokibabypyth



Series: Mercy [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley needs a hug, Crowley/Gabriel (mentioned), F/M, Female Presenting Crowley, Gabriel’s not mentioned by name, Hurt Crowley, Kinda MPreg, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Other, Panic, Podfic Welcome, She/Her Pronouns for Crowley, but you’ll know when they’re talking about him, crowley was raphael, no actual smut, past trauma, pregnant crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 00:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokibabypyth/pseuds/Lokibabypyth
Summary: Crowley wakes up feeling very unusual. What would be keeping her from changing form?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so the idea is that Crowley wouldn’t be able to change form because the baby needs a place to be, if that makes sense. And Gabriel is the unnamed angel that Crowley talks about from before the fall. This is my first fic ever so if you like it, I’d love to know!

> Crowley woke up feeling out of sorts. Out of sorts may actually be the wrong description. This wasn’t the sort of feeling of having not slept enough or in an uncomfortable position. No, this feeling was...strange. She felt uncharacteristically grounded. Tied to her body, it’s form and it’s Effort. She tried to shift into her serpent form, and then to change her anatomical features back to her usual male presentation and was successful neither time. This was disturbing to the redhead, for she could not remember a time since becoming a demon that she was unable to change her corporeal form. Perhaps it would pass; perhaps she wasn’t fully awake enough to shift around at will, she told herself. Sleep was a funny thing, after all. She decided she might roll over and drift off again, still feeling drowsy. As she turned over, Crowley was met with the form of her husband, who, though he was lying in bed, was awake and reading, as usual. She nestled into his side comfortably and he petted her mop of luxurious curls. Aziraphale didn’t always spend the night in bed, as he never did take up the habit of sleeping. He did, however, on nights when they made love because Crowley was always especially cuddly and there was nothing the angel would rather do than hold his demon as the afterglow faded and Crowley succumbed to a blissful rest. As she snuggled into his side now, he kissed her head lightly and gathered her close, setting his book aside in the process. She smiled slightly, without so much as opening her beautiful golden eyes.
> 
> “Hello darling.” Whispered Aziraphale.
> 
> “Hmm...what time is it, Angel?” Crowley asked.
> 
> “Just after 10.” He replied, glancing at the clock. “Would you like to get up and get breakfast?” The answer to breakfast was always no. Even when Crowley did eat, which wasn’t often, it was never before 3 in the afternoon. The question was more of a way of letting her know Aziraphale was getting up to get breakfast.
> 
> “You know, I actually do feel a bit hungry now that you mention it. Can we have pancakes?” The demon asked, blinking her eyes open. Now, that was odd.
> 
> Aziraphale answered all the same, “Of course, love.”
> 
> Crowley sat quaintly on the counter next to the stove, sipping a hot cuppa while Aziraphale cooked the pancakes. She was draped in nothing but last night’s lingerie and a little transparent black robe that was untied. Her usually spiral curls were loose from being slept on and fell over her shoulders. She was glowing, an absolute vision. Aziraphale kissed her as he handed her a plate of warm pancakes.
> 
> “Thank you.” She smiled, slipping off the counter and taking her breakfast over to the table, grabbing the bottle of syrup on the way. The demon poured a great amount of the sticky sweet stuff over her pancakes before passing the bottle to the angel who sat down next to her.
> 
> “Aziraphale,” she said between mouthfuls, “Do you know I feel very strange this morning?”
> 
> “I should say so, you’re actually eating.” The angel replied.
> 
> “What? No not that. It’s, well, this morning I was trying to change into my serpent form, and then I tried to change back how I usually am, and I couldn’t.”
> 
> “Couldn’t change into a serpent or back into a man?” Aziraphale seemed puzzled.
> 
> “Both. Either... it’s not just that. I *feel* stuck. That’s the only reason I tried it at all was because I didn’t feel like I could.”
> 
> “That is strange...do you think something may be wrong with you?” The angel worried.
> 
> “I can’t say I know. What could be wrong with a demon? ‘S not like I could be ill.”
> 
> “Perhaps not, but I’ve never known you to be stuck any one way. That worries me, Crowley.”
> 
> “Me too. But what can we do? There’s no one we can ask from Heaven or Hell at this point, can’t exactly go to a doctor either. Don’t suppose you’ve any books on demonic issues lying around the shop, have you?” Crowley asked, thinking out loud more than anything.
> 
> “Not that I know of, but I’ll give a look when I go in today.” Aziraphale nodded.
> 
> “Oh! What about the girl with the prophecy book? The witch down in Tadfield? I bet she could tell if something was wrong.” The redhead exclaimed as if she’d had some remarkable revelation.
> 
> “There may be something to that. Why don’t you go and see her today when I go to the shop? I think the children in the village would be delighted to see you as well.”
> 
> “Alright.” Said Crowley, getting up to toss her now empty paper plate in the bin. About an hour later, having finished perfecting her makeup and hair (and it was perfect, because she expected it to be), Crowley slipped into her usual too tight black jeans and leather ensemble, and got into the Bentley to head for Tadfield. Being alone in the car gave her some time for very unwelcome worries to creep in, but the demon made it in record time regardless, as she always did. She rang the doorbell of Anathema’s (and now Newt’s as well) cottage. A surprised witch opened the door. “Crowley?”
> 
> “Hey Anathema, sorry I didn’t call ahead, thought I’d pop in for a visit if that’s alright with you.” Crowley’s words ran together as she sauntered right through the front door, not needing or waiting for a proper invitation in.
> 
> “Uhm- it’s fine.” Anathema exchanged questioning looks with Newt, who only shrugged. “Would you like some tea?”
> 
> “And biscuits if you have any.” Crowley nodded, already plopping down on the couch in the den.
> 
> “I’ll get them.” Newt waved Anathema go to sit with their unannounced visitor.
> 
> “So...not that we aren’t glad to have you...but what brings you to Tadfield?” Anathema asked, as she sat by Crowley now, the witch could see the distressed look that played on the redhead’s features, and surely reached her covered eyes.
> 
> “I-“ Crowley’s voice broke and she brought a hand to her mouth as she closed it, drawing in a long, shaky breath and trying to regain some composure even as she was quickly falling apart. “Something is dreadfully wrong with me and I’m afraid.” The witch sat in shock; sitting before her was one of the celestial beings whom she had seen herself step in, determined and fearless, to stop the actual apocalypse. That very same being (albeit in a slightly different form) was sitting on her couch, weepy and afraid. Afraid of what?
> 
> “Shhh. It’s alright, Crowley.” Anathema reached out and coaxed the mess of a demon into a hug. Crowley all but fell into her chest, desperate for any sort of comfort, and only wishing it was her angel’s arms around her. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on when you feel ready? I’ll do everything I can to help you.” Newt shot a worried look from the kitchen and Anathema returned it, grimly. Eventually, the redhead was able to compose herself enough to accept some tissues Newt had brought in, along with the tea and biscuits.
> 
> Crowley sighed. “I’m unable to change form. No matter how hard I concentrate, nothing happens. This has never ever happened to me since I...since I fell. Not in 6,000 years has this happened to me.” She was still so shaky, Anathema rubbed circles on her back to quiet her.
> 
> “Not in 6,000 years, you said? Has it happened to you before the fall?” Newt asked after a moment of consideration. Anathema shot him a pointed look that said ‘shut up’, but Crowley didn’t seem offended by the question.
> 
> “Only once, back when I was an angel.” Crowley answered.
> 
> “Well, what was the cause of it then? What made it stop happening- or happen, rather, I suppose?” Newt spoke again, ignoring Anathema’s warning look completely.
> 
> Crowley sputtered “It was so long ago I— well, it couldn’t be now what it was then. No it simply can’t.”
> 
> “Well I don’t know, if that’s the only other time this’s happened, that’s all we have to go on. I wouldn’t rule anything out.” Anathema spoke now.
> 
> The redhead let out a humorless chuckle. “No, no. If it were the same at all, that would mean I was pregnant.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is very upset in this chapter, but with good reason. You’ve been warned.

“But that can’t be it. It simply can’t.” Crowley was speaking quickly now, repeating herself over and over.

“Crowley,” Anathema placed a hand over the demon’s, “Why couldn’t it be that?”

“Because I’m happy! I’m happy and settled now with Aziraphale and I can’t have a fledgeling come up- I can’t lose another baby, Anathema, I ca-a-an’t!” Crowley was sobbing, her thoughts positively racing. She was certain in her own mind that she hadn’t been this emotionally distressed since the fall, and wasn’t certain she wouldn’t discorporate from grief.

  
“Alright, Alright. Shhhhh...” Anathema petted Crowley, and her heart ached for the demon. Something truly terrible must’ve happened, but now wasn’t the time to be asking for details. It was the time to be taking action and to find out if pregnancy truly was the root of Crowley’s predicament. “Here, Crowley, come lay down. We’ll figure this out.” Anathema stood up, helping the demon up and leading her to the bedroom. The witch moved pillows aside on the bed so Crowley could lie flat on the mattress. She then picked up an antique box from under the bed and set it on the bedside table. Crowley watched, suspiciously, as Anathema took out a palm crystal and a pendulum. She very gently and very slowly laid the palm crystal onto Crowley’s forehead over her 3rd eye. The demon closed her eyes and sighed, the cool rock felt nice against her unusually hot skin. “This should help you relax a bit.” Anathema said. She picked up the pendulum then, holding it over the middle of Crowley’s still body, and placing her free hand flat over the demon’s womb. Crowley wasn’t sure what type of ritual Anathema was up to, but she didn’t move, only let the witch go about her business. After a few moments of the pendulum swinging rhythmically, and a few different presses of Anathema’s palm, she gathered up the pendulum and crystal and placed them back into the box. Crowley opened her golden eyes expectantly and Anathema sighed and placed her palm then gently over Crowley’s forehead. The demon closed her eyes again and tears fell from them as she wordlessly understood.

  
“Crowley, whatever happened before, don’t be afraid. Let yourself have hope, and try to be happy, ok? I’m sure Aziraphale will be.”

  
“I didn’t lose a baby before, Anathema, not really.” Crowley whispered.

  
“What?”

  
“The father killed it.” Her voice was dead, empty, absolutely flat and dreadful in a way Anathema had never heard from anyone. 

  
“It wasn’t...Aziraphale?”

  
“No, it wasn’t.” Before Anathema could respond, the telephone rang. The witch reached over to grab it.

  
She cleared her throat, trying to pretend everything was just fine. “Hello?”

“Hello, Anathema? It’s Aziraphale. Just thought I’d telephone to see how Crowley is. She did get in alright? I tried to telephone her mobile but had no luck. She was feeling quite out of sorts this morning and, if I was honest, I’m quite concerned for her.”

  
“She...she’ll be ok, I think. But she’s in no state to drive. Maybe you’d better come here, actually.”

  
“Oh dear. Oh yes, be there in a pop.” The line cut off abruptly.

  
“He’s so worried about you...I truly believe he’ll be happy. Do you want to tell him?” Anathema said, putting the phone down.

  
Crowley shook her head. “You do it.” The doorbell rang; of course he would miracle himself straight there. The redhead shuddered.

  
“Are you sure?” Anathema asked. Newt would answer the door.

  
“Yea, go on.” The redhead nodded her out. The witch gave Crowley what she hoped was an encouraging smile, then turned to leave, closing the bedroom door behind her. Crowley was suddenly very alone, and still very distressed, the gold of her eyes consumed the whole of them.

  
“Please,” she whispered desperately, “please, if you never hear another thing I ask, if you never allow me any other happiness, if you have any pity for me left at all...let me have this one.” She placed her trembling hands over her stomach and listened to the silence. She could hear murmurs outside the door, but nothing clear enough for her to make out. Then the tap of footsteps. Footsteps coming towards the door. A pattern more staccato than most people’s, a pattern she knew belonged to her angel. The door handle clicked and creaked open; every second was agony till she was met with Aziraphale’s soft blue eyes. They were teary, but oh they were happy tears. He absolutely beamed. The angel rushed to the bed and all but scooped Crowley up into his arms, kissing her lips with all the love he could possibly pour into her. He peppered kisses around her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her lips again, as he held her so tightly, cherished and adored and absolutely safe in his arms. “You beautiful creature! You wonderful, precious, perfect thing; my sweetest serpent, my darling. Crowley I love you so much!” He exclaimed between kisses.

  
The demon seemed shocked “You aren’t angry?”

  
“Oh how could I be? I’m ecstatic, Crowley, I’m thrilled. Our own little fledgeling, I never even thought it a possibility-“

  
“I didn’t know it was, really.” The readhead sighed, feeling relief and joy wash over her, drowning every foolish fear and doubt.

  
“Come on my dear, I think we should go home and get in our own bed and not leave it for a very long while.” Aziraphale kissed his wife again, though more deeply this time.

  
“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, angel.”


End file.
